Do You Believe in the Easter Bunny?
by Do the Gabriel
Summary: An evil monster possesses firemen in LA and disaster strikes Rampart when evil demons prowl its halls.


Once upon a time, in a far, far, far away place called Los Angeles, there lived a young firefighter/paramedic named John Roderick Gage. His partner and friend, Roy DeSoto, was doubtful of his partner's sanity on that bright Easter morning in 1974.

"John, the Easter bunny does NOT exist!" the exasperated firefighter told his buddy for what felt like the millionth time. Johnny reminded him once again:

"You have to keep an open mind about this sort of thing, Roy. I mean, look at the proof you've got: every Easter morning, children all over the nation wake up and look for their Easter basket, which is always filled with candy.

"I mean, who else could have filled the baskets except for the Easter bunny?! It's not like the parents do!

"One Easter, I stayed up all night, sitting in the armchair, you know, the one in my parents' room. Anyway, I stayed up until at LEAST four o' clock in the morning, and by then I'm sure they would've been asleep! But I STILL FOUND CANDY WHEN I WOKE UP. And Roy, here's the weird part: I'm pretty darn sure that I heard something kind of hoppin' around in the living room, you know, right around midnight-"

The klaxons sounded and there was a stampede-like effect as the six men who worked there, ran to the two trucks in the garage.

Roy decided right then and there that he didn't feel like driving. The only problem? They were already moving. "Hey, Junior," he began, "Could you please switch seats with me?"

"Uh, sure."

They then performed the tricky maneuver that they'd practiced several times in the past: as Roy kept one hand on the wheel, Johnny climbed up behind him, squished against the back of the truck interior. John whistled the tune he and his partner had made up together. The meaning of it was simple: HEY ROY I'M READY YOU CAN MOVE NOW!

Roy laughed and scooted over into the passenger's seat.

No one was anywhere close to the wheel. Obviously, neither of them should have gotten their drivers license!

Luckily for everyone, no one was seriously injured in the crash that quickly followed.

* * *

Two weeks later, Roy was visiting his buddy John in the hospital when a strange look came about Johnny's face.

"What is it, Junior?" Roy asked in a strangely angry manner.

Joanne, whom was visiting with him, gave her husband a funny look, which was quickly replaced with horror when John elaborated.

"I seein' the Easter Bony I seein' the Easter Bony I seein' the Easter Bony –"

Johnny let out a blood-curdling scream that lasted for a full twenty seconds.

"John, are you all right?!" Roy asked worriedly. "Jo, go get a doctor- wait, never mind!"

Roy pushed the button by Johnny's bed and all three emergency doctors rushed in immediately. _Like magic_, Roy thought.

"What in the world is going on in here!?" Doctors Brackett and Morton demanded simultaneously. "I was on a coffee break!"

"I wanted to eat a do-o-o-oughnut!" Doctor Early whined.

Roy, recognizing that these were doctors Lackett, Chorton, and Girly, quickly pushed them out the door and called for a nurse.

"Carroll," he said when she got there, "Please page Doctor Brackett. And are you allowed to page nurses? Because we could really use Dixie right now."

Carroll nodded and hurried away as Roy took Johnny's pulse and respirations. "Man, he's not well," he commented as his partner arched his back and cried out.

Just then the real Doctor Brackett rushed in. "Roy, what's going on here?"

Johnny explained for himself by rolling out the bed and convulsing on the floor. "Easter Bony Easter Bony Easter Bony aaargh it's the Easter Bony whad'm I gonna doooo?!"

"Yeah, um... yeah." Was all Roy could think to say.

* * *

April 28, 1974

My head feels awful, like it's gonna explode. I know I'm supposed to be resting, but I just can't settle down. I feel like the moment I fall asleep, it'll come again, all matted fur and wild eyes.

What if I'm alone when it comes? Then I'm a goner for sure. Hey, if Roy and Jo hadn't been there last time, I'd be cremated by now.

I still don't know if that's the right way to go. Should I just let them throw me in a coffin and cover me with dirt like they do everyone else? But ever since that rescue, with that guy pounding on the lid of his OWN COFFIN, I mean, it just hasn't seemed... as appealing.

But that's totally beside the point. I just wish I could be anywhere but here, I feel so... restricted, I guess. Not to mention like I'm going to die any second.

Boy, it sure is hard with Roy at work practically every day. And even on his off days, he's got a family to take care of. It's not like they're all super eager to jump on into the car and come see me seizing on the floor.

Heck, at least THEY don't have to live it.

The shear terror of it just swallows me.

I've dug myself into a hole I can't climb out of.

* * *

Chet Kelly.

"Kelly, Kelly, Kelly," Cap muttered sadly. "It looks like you're going to have to clean the station unassisted once again."

"WHAT?!" Chet protested, "ALL I DID WAS JOKE AROUND WITH HIM!"

"Making poor Mike here cry is not 'joking around'," Marco Lopez snapped at Chet. "And he's NOT fat, and he's NOT ugly, and YOU do NOT DESERVE to be engineer instead of him!"

"There, there, Mike," Cap tried to comfort his favorite firefighter, "Chet didn't mean any of that. Now DID you, Chet?" Cap added nastily.

Chet just smiled.

Poor, poor Mike.

* * *

Doctor Early bent down to pick up some files he had dropped and felt a searing pain in his left knee. "Ouch," he commented as he straightened up, "Perhaps I am getting to old for this job," he pondered, and waddled off to check on a very puzzling case Doctor Brackett wanted his opinion on. Apparently, the patient had been in an automobile accident and had received only minor injuries. None to the head. However, their condition was worsening by the minute, and their psychological state was that of extreme anxiety.

Doctor Brackett had, however, not yet revealed who this patient was, and Doctor Early had warned him many a time that it better not be himself.

"That trick you pulled with my heart problem was extremely cruel," Doctor Early shouted once more at Doctor Brackett as they passed each other in the hall, "Almost traumatizing. No, certainly traumatizing. I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Ah, I see you're finally going to take a look at my patient," was the wise reply Doctor Brackett thought of as he fell into step with his colleague. "I think you'll find this one very interesting."

Doctor Early let out a gasp as they entered a room in the Intensive Care Unit, as a wild-eyed and armed man jumped at them from behind the door. Doctor Brackett, however, chortled. "It's only us, John," he reassured the young man.

This earned another gasp from Doctor Early. "John GAGE?" he choked, sending a spray of spittle into Johnny's face, "The PARAMEDIC?!"

"Why is that so surprising, Doc?" Johnny asked. "I'm in here every other da-aaaaaaaaaaaaay EASTER BONY OOOOOH MY GOOOOOOSH IT'S THE EASTER BONY HE'S HERE AGAIN OH NOOO WHADIMM I GONNA DOOOO?!"

Johnny spasmed, then collapsed into a heap on the floor, unmoving.

"Oh dear," Doctor Early sympathized.

* * *

"Is John gonna be all right?" Chris looked worriedly up at his father. "How is he?"

Roy shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "What was that, Chris?"

"Uh, I _said_: is Johnny gonna live or not?" was Chris's reply. "Well?!"

"Oh, oh, he's going to be fine, Chris," Roy reassured his son, "And don't call him Johnny, call him... Mister Gage or something like that."

Chris nodded, satisfied with this answer, and hurried off to tell his sister.

Roy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Not only was Johnny's condition worsening, but Doctor Brackett thought that Roy had something to do with it. Or at least knew something that he wasn't telling them. Doctor Morton had interrogated him for an hour, with the concrete belief that John was on drugs. That fun conversation had ended with Doctor Morton telling Roy, "I'll believe you when it's not the seventies."

Great. Just six more years.

Roy stood up and stretched his back, arms, and legs. _If Johnny was here_, Roy thought, _We could do those special stretching exercises together. Now I do them alone. _

He walked into the kitchen, where Jenny and Chris were making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches together.

"Hey, you two," he said, "I've gotta go, I'll be back before dinner. Make sure Mom doesn't get into any trouble, okay?"

"Okay, Dad," Jenny promised.

Roy kissed them both good-bye and stopped to talk to Joanne on the way out. "Honey," he started, "We're going to have to let the kids see John one of these da-"

"I know. I know."

* * *

April 29, 1974

My body twists and writhes on the floor, I feel my fingernails dig into my palms, a hair-rising scream comes from my mouth. Someone pulls me up, I feel a cold cloth being dabbed on my forehead, people whisper words that I don't understand.

"Doc, Doc, I see it it's he- here," I babble, gasping for breath. The dabbing stops. "Oh, Doc, you've gotta see it you gotta kill it no- no, wait. No, no, WAIT, DOC, DON'T MOVE!"

Suddenly I am on my feet. Red blotches erupt in front of my eyes. I can't see, I can't hear, I know it's in here; it's going to get me. That's all I know. But I don't want to die! I stumble backwards and trip over something- someone, I think- and I scream like they've burned me, and maybe they have, I don't know-

As suddenly as it started, it stops. All the strength rushes out of my body and I fall to the ground like a marionette with cut strings. And they know it's over, the people in my room. I couldn't fight back if I wanted to. They lift me onto my bed, I feel a sharp sting in my arm. Did they start an I.V.? Why? There's nothing wrong with me.

But then again, who am I to say that?

* * *

Chet Kelly.

"We should do something for Gage. You know, to make him feel better," Mike Stoker suggested, "Maybe bake him a cake or something."

"Yeah, you'd be one to eat cake, wouldn't..." Chet began, but stopped himself. It was just the stress getting to him. He'd never really hated Stoker.

"Chet, grab a mop and get to work," Cap commanded like an evil man, "Do I need to suspend you?"

"_Uh_, _no_... um, sir." Chet clumsily avoided insulting his boss.

Cap gave him a look that clearly said, 'I know what you were about to do, Kelly, and I am NOT impressed'.

Marco Lopez, Chet's decidedly _former_ best friend, followed him around as he mopped the floor, polished the engine, polished Cap's shoes, dusted the inside of the squad, remade all the beds, prepped dinner, polished Mike Stoker's shoes, and ran around, catering to Cap's every want and need.

"Geez, Chet, you're a loser," Marco commented, "You have to do this every single day."

The mild man had gotten on Chet's nerves. He bit his tongue, because if he was rude to Lopez he'd have to wash his car.

DeSoto walked up, and Chet felt a pang of remorse. Roy's problems were much worse than the prospect of washing cars: His best friend was in the hospital, and Johnny's chance of survival was dropping every day, Roy was prime suspect for having hurt Johnny, his drivers license had been revoked, and he also had to put up with Tom Wheeler, Johnny's replacement.

"Hey, Roy," Chet called, "Are you feeling all right today? I mean, well, better?" he said after the look Roy gave him.

The day was off to an awful start.

* * *

"Doctor Early?" Johnny said quietly.

Doctor Early started, looking up from Johnny's test results. "I thought you were asleep," Early stated, "What is it, John?"

"Uh, I was wondering..." Johnny wasn't sure how to put this. "I was, um, wondering if you... if you believed in ghosts and stuff. Supernatural stuff?"

Doctor Early slowly exhaled and looked John dead in the eyes. He delivered the line he'd been waiting for: "I don't believe; I know."

Those brown eyes grew large as saucers.

* * *

April 30, 1974

I don't think I'm crazy. It's not like I'm hallucinating this stuff; I didn't have a single bruise on my head. But it's not exactly normal, is it, for a perfectly healthy twenty-six-year-old to suddenly see a giant monster bunny.

It almost sounds funny when you put it like that. Ridiculous, like something out of a cartoon.

But no way is anyone laughing.

* * *

Chet Kelly.

Chet sat on his bed, away from all the other guys, and thought. He could hear Tom Wheeler and Mike Stoker laughing, talking about something that sounded like milk, but couldn't have been, because then they were talking about how insanely disgusting it was, and all the guys there loved milk.

Chet was determined that some day, no matter when, John would walk through the station door and get ready for work, just like how it used to be. And if doctors couldn't help John accomplish that, Chet would.

Chet shook his head and set to work meditating, trying to find John Gage's presence in the invisible world only Chet could see. _Ah, there he is_, the fireman thought, having arrived on the astral plane, _But wait... that's not just him... there's something else... what's the EASTER BONY?!_

Station 51 was filled with a blood-curdling screech.

* * *

Nurse Dixie McCall paged Doctor Brackett at four P.M. on April thirtieth. He came rushing to the Bay Station, just in time to hear Squad 51 relaying to Dixie: "Uh, Rampart, the victim is currently unconscious, new vital signs: pulse is about 120, respirations rapid and shallow, B.P. is about 42 over 75. Request permission to start an I.V."

"Negative on the I.V., 51. Bring him in as fast as you can," Doctor Brackett said into the phone.

"10-4, Rampart."

Doctor Brackett sighed. "I REALLY need a cup of coffee," he grouched, "I've worked four shifts in a row."

"No can do, Doctor," Dixie teased, "You'll be treating a patient soon enough."

* * *

April 30, 1974

They don't see me. I just had to get out of that room. I don't care that my joints ache, that I feel like I'll throw up any second. I can feel myself shaking. I guess it gets to you, living in constant fear.

I see who they bring in, and I feel my heart stop. I've never seen Chet so pale, like he's a corpse or something. He's yelling something, something about Easter. I swallow hard and start backing away.

Someone touches my shoulder. I jump and whip around, and find myself face to face with the monster, the thing that's been tormenting me night and day, for who knows how long-

"Should you be out of bed, sir?"

Oh. Just a nurse.

I take a deep breath and nod yes. "Yeah, I- I, um, am allowed to, uh, t-to walk- around... today."

She doesn't believe me. "Well, I think you should get some rest anyway," she says, and gently guides me toward my room.

I nod in agreement that yes, I would like some rest, much too late.

She gives me a funny look, but doesn't say anything. She lays me down on my bed. I feel a horrible pain I can only describe as red, red hot. Then I pass out.

I've seen enough for today.

* * *

Chet Kelly.

He didn't know where he was. He could see it, hear it, feel it on the deep level that only he had the power to feel on- the Easter Bony was upon him.

Chet took a deep breath and looked up into the face of Doctor Early; he was very confused. He had just been in the station a second ago... what had he been he doing? Oh, yeah. He was on the astral plane, looking for Gage. But what happened after that? Chet could feel that his Power was drained- a lot.

_Oh, no!_ Chet thought, _The Easter Bony- it's on the loose!_

Creatures like the Easter Bony preyed on weak minds. Their objective was to absorb all that complex, juicy mind energy and use it to grow more and more powerful- those things could take out entire universes! Chet knew that from first-hand experience.

He cursed his own stupidity: if he'd been more stealthy about it, instead of blundering into John's mind, he might have been able to find out more about the Easter Bony, what its weak points were, its tendencies- Chet had single-handedly caught and stopped the destruction of at least forty-three different universes.

But now that Chet was possessed by the Easter Bony, he wouldn't even be able to explain what it was to people: the Easter Bony simply wouldn't allow that. Sure, he could cry out meaningless warnings and give a vague synopsis of what it did, but he couldn't give out vital information.

Just like the Easter Bony to torment you as well as torture you.

* * *

Roy tugged on his collar and swallowed hard. Today was just getting worse and worse. Cap was filled with regret about the way he'd treated Chet, and was acting quite depressed.

Chet seemed to have what Johnny did, and Johnny had been placed on the critical list.

The klaxons sounded just then, and Roy jumped up from the kitchen table, bumping his knee in the process. "Dang it," he huffed under his breath.

"Come on, DeSoto!" someone yelled.

Roy got into the driver's seat- bad habit, he guessed- then quickly slid over as Wheeler came running into the garage. For some reason, Wheeler's face was covered with lotion.

"Why the- heck- is that on your face?!" Roy demanded, watching his language around the young paramedic. Tom had called him out on his language twice before already.

"DeSoto, not everyone has a perfect face like yours." Tom rolled his eyes.

Roy stared at him. Was he being sarcastic, or did he seriously think that Roy had a perfect face? Roy squinted his eyes at Wheeler, trying to figure it out, when they pulled up to the scene of the emergency: a structure fire.

_Should be routine_, Roy thought.

How wrong he was.

* * *

Doctor Brackett sighed and leaned back into the soft cushioning of his office chair. "I don't like it," he began, "If anyone else starts acting like this, we might have to-"

"Kel, I think I know what it is," Doctor Early cut in, "And it's hardly mental, and it sure isn't physical."

Doctor Brackett raised his eyebrows in that wiggly way only he can manage. "Go on," he chided.

"Well, it seemed quite simple at first: they're being possessed. But then I got to thinking about it, and I don't think that's all. There seems to be another psychic intervention as well.

"Now, I'm not completely sure about this, but I think someone in this hospital has an extreme belief of the Easter Bunny, perhaps because they never learned it didn't exist as a child.

"Anyway, somehow I think this belief turned into a nightmare at some point, which is the way that Phantoms, if you will, are born."

"You think Gage and Kelly are being possessed by _phantoms_?!" Doctor Brackett cried, "Get out of this office!"

Doctor Early got up and waddled out.

Their last hope was gone.

* * *

April 30, 1974

I know he's not there anymore, but I still see him: a video of Chet rolling and writhing on his stretcher plays over and over again in my head. I can't eat or sleep; I'm worried sick.

Heck, not like I could anyway.

A doctor I don't recognize walks into my room. Guess they moved me to intensive care when I was in that stupor earlier.

"I'm just going to make a routine examination, okay?" The doctor startles me by speaking, and I sit up too fast. Ergh, my back hurts from falling on the floor so many times.

"Oh, oh, yeah, all right, I guess that's all right." I'm so surprised by how steady my voice is that I actually smile. The doctor must find this encouraging, and he smiles back.

He does a normal exanimation, and he seems disconcerted by how out of whack my reflexes are. I think my pupils must be dilated too, because he swears under his breath when he checks and double checks them.

"How'm I doin', Doc?" I ask hopefully as he puts away the equipment and prepares to leave.

He gives me a forced smile. "You'll be okay, I think," he says, but I can hear him mutter, "For the night, maybe," as he leaves.

Great.

* * *

Chet Kelly.

Darn of a hecken, it happened again. When the Easter Bony took Chet over, he could feel it draining all the Power right out of him. Chet tried to fight back, but he was just... too tired.

He knew this would happen. There was really not much he could do about it at this point. The Easter Bony could take Chet over, if he liked. After all, he'd been alive and well for hundreds of thousands of years; he deserved a break.

Chet closed his eyes and smiled a bitter smile.

* * *

"ROY, YOU AND WHEELER CHECK THE SECOND FLOOR! THERE MIGHT STILL BE PEOPLE ALIVE IN THERE!" Cap shouted to Roy across a wall of fire. Roy nodded that he understood and motioned for Tom to follow him. As they entered the building, the doorway collapsed, leaving them trapped in complete darkness, other than the horrid orange light the fire produced.

"Hey, do you hear that?!" Roy yelled to Wheeler; it sounded as though voices were screaming for help. "Come on, let's go!"

Roy blundered ahead on into the flames, came to a staircase, and started climbing; he could still hear the voices- it sounded like two, maybe three people.

"Hey, Tom, could ya-" Roy looked behind him. Tom was not there.

Roy spun around in a full circle. All he could see was the flames. He began running in the direction he had come from- or thought he had. Roy knocked into something, a chair or table, and keeled over in pain, clutching his stomach. "Tom," he choked, "Tom- please-"

A metal beam fell splat onto his head.

* * *

April 31, 1974

I stare out the window miserably. Will I ever escape from this? From this bed, this hospital- the Easter Bony?

Even the name makes me shutter- stupid, of course.

All of this is stupid. It just doesn't make sense- me, lying in a hospital bed for who knows how long, with nothing to think about except for myself.

Doctors Early and Brackett step into my room, and my heart pounds against my ribs. Two doctors? Must be serious.

They tell me something that sends my mind reeling. At how right I was. All I'd thought about was myself, and now it's too late.

Roy's dead.

* * *

April 22, 1984

I walk up their driveway and see how much it's deteriorated over the years. I walk up the steps to their door, stare for a moment at the peeling paint, and then ring the bell.

Chris DeSoto answers it. He's almost as tall as me. "Uh, do I know you?" he asks, and I feel a pang in my chest.

"I'm, um, I'm h-here to see, uh, Jo– uh, Mrs. DeSoto," I speak with a stutter that won't leave me. Somehow I know that speech therapy won't help.

Chris gives me a weird look. "Yeah, I'll... go get her, then."

He hurries inside, leaving the door open. I wonder if he meant to close it, but decide I don't care. I step inside and stare around the house. Dishes fill the kitchen sink, the carpeting on the stairs is ratty and worn, green paint splatters the walls of the living room.

Chris comes back with Joanne. Her hair is prematurely gray, her face lined with wrinkles of worry, yet she still breaks out into a smile when she sees me.

We embrace for what is sure to be the last time.

"Happy Easter," she whispers to me.

But Easter will never be happy for me again.

End


End file.
